


My Name is Mark

by Panda_kun



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Also this is all just a big complicated family mess, Hopefully the two can sort things out, North American Brothers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-14 20:07:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5756539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Panda_kun/pseuds/Panda_kun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He just wanted to remain in the little fictional life he had created for himself, why couldn't America understand that and leave him alone? The past two years had been amazing without the nation junk in his life and he intended to keep the rest of his life that way. </p><p>And to think that the one time in Canada's life that he welcomed his invisibility skills to other nations, it decided to fail him and create a mess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chance encounter?

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in my drafts forever.
> 
> I used to be a huuuuuuge fan of Hetalia back in the day (in fact I had a Fanfiction.net account filled with fluff stories of the North American brothers. I think it's still existing probably haha) when I had wanted to finally try my hand at a multi chapter fic. But you know how life goes with interests changing and all that jazz right?
> 
> Well someone, who totally isn't me, has randomly been inspired to continue this maybe? I don't know we'll see how this goes.
> 
> Please enjoy what I have here~

"Matthew..."

Out of all the things that could've happened on the chilly October morning, having that name resurface in his life was not one of them. 

The name was drawn out slowly; almost as if the owner’s windpipe was tightly tied together with twine. It was a strangled and pitiful noise that would've put a kicked puppy’s whine to shame.

But despite his temptation to look up from his sketchbook, he refused to knowing deep down this stranger was trouble. Also, all he was doing was sketching the morning scenery for his art project due in a couple hours and enjoying his last year of high school. Why would anyone have the need to address him with that forgotten name? Besides, no one should've known about that name; at least concerning him. 

Not to mention, anyone else in this park could’ve been named Matthew! His school was nearby and tons of students hung out here before class. In reality, he was just a random teenager on a bench. Obviously, this stranger was mistaken meaning he would have no obligations to respond to them. But despite his desire to remain ignorant to the pair of legs in his peripheral vision, a sense of dread settled itself in his throat.

There may have been nothing to distinguish him from other people at the park but he knew better. He played hockey, attained a great average at school and was involved with all the right clubs and activities. In fact, he had a bright future ahead of him according to the sea of people he interacted with. Athletic, smart, and oozing with potential; how stupid of him to think that someone from his old life wouldn’t be keeping tabs and notice? The feeling that rested in his throat soon curled into a coil of panic knowing that those legs had to belong to a country with that train of thought. 

Were they here to drag him back? Were the two hard years he invested into hiding all for naught? His head thrummed with questions, and the building pressure of fear threatened to spring out from his throat with each second that passed. He was tempted to make a break for it to school and lose the person in a crazy chase of some sorts but decided that he should just stand his ground and ignore them. They would eventually get tired of his unresponsiveness right?

But then the stranger spoke again.

“It's you... Isn't it…"

He didn’t wait another second as the voice had sent both himself and the coil in his throat flying across the park and straight to homeroom.


	2. Definitely Not a Chance Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand here's the other one!

He must’ve made a huge scene crashing into homeroom judging by the amount of sympathetic pats he felt on his shoulders from the few kids that were already in class. At least he thought they were sympathetic; it was hard to tell when his forehead was permanently glued by sweat to his textbook cover.

' _Running away from your problems and up 3 flights of stairs will do that to you_ ’ was all he could bitterly think back to himself.

Of course with what had happened this morning, it was easy to feel bitter about the whole ordeal. The point of ‘dying’ was to die, stay dead and continue to be non-existent. So why couldn’t America understand that? All of his boss’ hard work was now down the drain because of him.

His boss (bless him) had been a huge support in helping him create a new life and arranged most of the basic things he would’ve needed. A way to disappear, an apartment, a back story and a school. They had sat down and planned everything out which he would eternally be grateful for. And after leaving his role as a personification for good, his boss stayed out of his way allowing him the normal life he craved.

But despite leaving everything behind, he boss would periodically call once in a while to ask how it was going for him as a human. Other than that, their communication was kept to a minimum in order to avoid suspicion of other countries. But last night when he received a cryptic voicemail from him saying “He's coming” he didn’t know what to think. He wasn’t due for another nice chat until next month so he didn’t have a reason to contact him. So he had just dismissed that voicemail as an act of drunken carelessness; that was the only explanation that made sense to him anyway.

Well, of course, that was until this morning happened and the wall guarding him in his fictional world started to crumble.

A loud groan slipped past his lips. He needed to do something else to take his mind off of this. Hopefully the reverse osmosis of information technique he had been trying to perfect as of last year was finally taking place.

Pft, yeah right.

The room was now slightly abuzz by the chatter of the rest of his classmates piling into homeroom for class. At least class was going to start soon so that his mind could occupy itself with something other than the situation he was in.

Would he have to move now? Probably. Stay off the grid for another year and try his hand at grade 12 again in another school? Sad to say, yes. He really liked this school and the life he had here but he needed to stay hidden. But should he even be considering these thoughts? Meh, he could worry about that later.

Just then, the bell rang signalling the start of the national anthem. He stood up like the diligent student he was and impatiently waited for the day to start so it could end. But once the anthem ended and he seated himself for the morning announcements, instead of the normal routine where his teacher walked in late with papers and such flying about, he came in with a person. Whatever blood was flowing through him froze and violently clawed at his veins at the sight before him.

A stupid, round faced, and blond American graced his eyes.

“Mornin’ class! Today we have a new student! Alfred F. Jones!” Smiling brightly, the new student blinded the students in the front row and immediately drew the attention of the girls at the back with a single glance.

They might’ve spent ages together but the power of America’s charisma never ceased to amaze him. He watched as the rest of his class was slowly infected by the virus of America’s charm while his teacher jabbered on about interesting facts about their new student.

“Oh and did I mention that he’s from Ontario? Flying in all the way here to our humble place in Alberta! How cool is that?!"

And apparently he was a Canadian now too.

“Hey guys! Alfred’s the name and uh, I guess I really don’t have a game haha!” The class laughed along with him, displaying the most common symptom when infected with America’s charm; instant likability towards dorks like America.

"I’ll be looking forward to the rest of this school year with you guys! Hopefully it’ll be a blast!” And with that, he winked in the general direction of the class earning several giggles from the girls in the front row then proceeded to laugh that iconic laugh that was unfortunately burnt into his memories.

Breaking out in a cold sweat, he tried to control his urge to throw-up. This couldn’t be happening. He hid himself so well for these two years and only messed up this morning. He expected at least another good year before he had to pick up his roots and move elsewhere; how the hell did America manage to track him down so quickly?!

Internally melting inside, he tried to calm himself down through internal motivational speeches.

‘Theres no way Alfred could've known I'm in this class. Sure he probably knew my school based on the direction I ran but as long as I stay out of sight I should be fine… The chances of him being in homeroom is just coincidence... I’ll be fin-'

“Mark?”

Caught off guard by the sudden appearance of his homeroom teacher’s face in his personal bubble, he fell out of his chair with the pathetic squeak of his own voice. His teacher loomed above him with questioning eyes but brushed off his weird behaviour with a chuckle and an extended hand to help him up.

“Man Marky, you gonna be alright? I mean I can be kinda ugly looking going through my middle aged old man phase but, I shouldn’t have scared you that bad! You look like you ran across the park and all three flights of stairs this morning!” The class laughed along with that comment. Oh if only they knew...

“Anyway, I was going to ask you to show Alfred around for the day, y’know, being the student council president and all. I can write a note to all your teachers so that they know you’re not skipping or selling drugs, not that you would but, you won’t have to worry! But, you do look a little sick… Would you like me to get Allison to step in instead…? I’m sure she would be waaaaaay too eager to help Alfred.” Allison’s excited chirp across the room about 'how she would be delighted if Mark would let her' sent the class into a laughing fit.

Decisions, decisions, decisions.

Well, if he said no, he would only be a terrible president but, America wouldn’t be able to track him to his other classes and ultimately his home. But if he were to say yes, he would be fulfilling his duties as the president but give Alfred the upper hand in discovering where in the city he had fled to and possibly allow mental torture for the rest of the school year.

The answer was obvious.

“Um, I’m just tired sir, sorry for worrying you. I can take care of Alfred so don’t sweat it.” He smiled weakly to reassure his hyperactive teacher.

He was an idiot to believe he would make the right decision.

His teacher beamed in happiness at the answer. “Oh wow what a relief! I was worried you would say no! Sooooorrry Allissooooon but Alfred will be taken for the day!” And with that the man laughed hysterically along with the entire class. Allison playfully shook a fist at both him and their teacher then giggled to the same tune of the class.

Once things settled down again, he continued, “Well, to fill the gap Alexander made next to you by dropping my course,” the words 'that bastard thinking he can drop biology like it’s nothing’ was uttered affectionally under his breath, "I’ll be seating Alfred next to you m’kay?~”

And thats how he found himself thinking that he preferred this morning as oppose to right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So....
> 
> Yup, that's all I have. Maybe I'll continue it if I have time maybe I won't...   
> I have the third chapter about a 1/5 written sitting in my drafts as well so maybe it's more likely than naught.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed what I had so far and that you got a weird kick from seeing a work that never made it to my long forgotten Fanfiction.net account (which I pray to God none of you find).
> 
> Okay have a nice day guys~


End file.
